


Sounds Like A Melody

by Guardian_of_Hope



Series: Reconstruction [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Laura is a wonderful person, New Friends, Pack, Self Harm, Trouble, friends - Freeform, growing pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reconstruction 03: Four moments in the life of the Hale Pack. OCs, mild swearing, violence, self harm (in chap 3) AU, gen</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Today

**Author's Note:**

> Four stories from the early days in New York City. Please note, there is self-harm in chapter three.

When the gardeners were done with the landscaping, Laura found they had followed her most important request.  A single bed turned and ready for planting, with four trellises waiting for the roses that Laura was going to plant.  

Talia had loved roses, and the Hale house had never been a good place for roses, until Laura and her dad, mostly her dad, had located a place on the property where roses could grow and had built Talia a hidden garden filled with roses.

Laura remembered every summer thereafter, going to the hidden garden to tend the soil, and to steal blackberries from the nearby thicket, and listening to her mother tell her stories.  Stories that had conveyed the history, traditions, and customs of the werewolves, not just the Hale Pack, but all werewolves.

They had spent hours a week in the garden, talking and tending the earth.  Laura had confessed her first crush in that garden, and had cried when he broke her heart.

Now, Laura laid out new purchased gloves and tools before bringing out the tray of roses.  She didn’t have the space that Talia had, so she had picked four roses that would remind her of her mother.  The first would eventually be trained to the trellis, a bright red Don Juan climbing rose, red, for courage and respect.  Next were the two shrubs roses, the Carefree Beauty rose, a light pink for admiration, joy, and grace and the white Snowdrift rose, for humility and reverence.  Finally, there was the English rose, Jean Giono, a yellow that could almost look orange, yellow for friendship, delight, remembrance, and welcome.

As she worked the mulch over the bed, Laura found herself having to stop often as the salt from her sweat stung her eyes.


	2. Keep On Moving

Laura watched anxiously as Derek loaded his plate.  Salad, mac’n’cheese from a box, ranch style beans, and the real test, the salmon patties.

Laura hadn’t realized how much money her parents put into food for the family.  Not until she’d watched Derek put away four double bacon cheeseburgers and three orders of curly fries before the world’s largest banana split after telling him to eat himself full.  Keeping up with Derek’s appetite was a challenge to say the least.  Laura was learning the value of snack foods and beef jerky, and was trying very hard not to feel guilty when she saw Derek eating potato chips when their mother had never allowed that in their house.

Still, if she could make salmon patties, she could make a start at bringing better food into the house.

Now, on her fourth try, she had to have managed it.  She’d managed hamburgers, sausage, and a chicken casserole that had vanished on the first serving every time she made it.

Derek broke off a piece of the patty and popped in his mouth, chewing slowly.  He took a second bite and nodded.

“Well?”  Laura said.

“I don’t know what you’re going to be eating,” Derek said, “because these are mine.”

Laura laughed and leaned over the table to grab her share.


	3. My People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Self Harm

Derek knew that Laura was worried about him.  He’d been in the Beacon Hills ISD all his life and had never been to any other school system.  He’d always been a known quantity as a Hale, a basketball player, and as an academic.  People had expectations that he met and even exceeded because he was Derek Hale, and that’s what he did.

His new school, however, was supposed to be tougher, a real challenge, and Derek looked forward to it.  He hoped a challenge would distract him from his guilt.

Derek jammed his claws into his palm and hissed softly.  He needed to find his classroom; the bell had rung ten minutes ago.

Finally, he spotted the proper room number and hurried to the open door, watching as the teacher wrote on the board until someone spotted him.  “Mister Gregory,” the boy said, “A visitor.”

Mr. Gregory turned to the door, “Yes, may I help you?”

Derek hesitated, “Classroom 3207, right?  Chemistry?”  He held up his schedule, “I’m Derek Hale.”

“Ah, our missing student.  Surely the campus has not been rearranged while I wasn’t looking?”  Mr. Gregory said.

“No sir,” Derek said.

“It’s the same as it was yesterday,” Mr. Gregory persisted.

“I guess,” Derek replied.

“You guess, Mister Hale?”

“It could change, I wouldn’t know,” Derek replied calmly.

“As a student here, you would be well aware of the nature of the campus by now.”  Mr. Gregory said as the class laughed quietly.

“It’s my first day,” Derek said, trying not to let his frustration show.

“It’s everyone’s first day of the school year,” Mr. Gregory replied.

“No,” Derek said.

“I assure you, I know the academic calendar,” Mr. Gregory said.

 _“No,”_ Derek said, his temper fraying, “it’s my first day _at this school,_ because I just moved to New York City because my whole _family_ is dead.  I got lost because _I do not know this school.”_

Mr. Gregory blinked, clearly startled at Derek’s bluntness.  No one was laughing now.  “I see, Mister Hale.  Why don’t you partner with Ms. Livingston, she is without a partner, I believe.”

Derek wanted to refuse when he realized his lab partner was a pretty blonde, but he’d caused enough ruckus today.  Instead, he forced himself over to sit by the girl, and as he walked, he forced himself to notice the difference.  Blue eyes, not hazel, her nose was different, and she had a chipped tooth.  Her clothes were stylish.  He sniffed delicately as he took his seat, and let the mix of sea, pine, and rosemary flood his senses in a way that _her_ honeysuckle, electricity, mint never could.

“Hi,” the girl said, “I’m Wren.”

“Derek,” Derek muttered.

“Welcome to New York.”


	4. Don't Take The Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild violence and swearing.

Places like New York City were filled with hidden gems.  Some were discovered and exploited and others were hidden like dirty secrets, whispered about over coffee and in shared through private emails.  Laura had been given a map and a murmured, “For memories,” from Justin with a significant nod.  The map lead her to a place that served the best greasy spoon burgers she’d ever tasted, and after her first trip, Laura was determined to drag Derek there at the first opportunity.

The thing about eating burgers was that it left Laura wanting to run, so she did the New York thing.  She ran in Central Park, picking trails that were less taken to keep people from noticing if her control slipped, and then she ran.  It felt good to run, the steady pace, the wind, the trees.  For a few minutes she could pretend she was back in Beacon Hills.

“Let go of me!”

Laura skidded to a halt and stared around the deserted park.  Cruel laughter surrounded her and Laura spun before spotting a turn off that was even less used than her own path.  Laura sprinted down the path as a girl screamed.  She turned a corner and got a lung full of breeze, warning her of the three werewolves ahead of her, two males who just _smelt_ vicious and cruel, and a female, terrified and submissive.  She heard the sound of flesh catching something soft but solid and the girl shrieked again.

Laura didn’t even try to prevent the change as she raced into the clearing.  She tackled one of the two males, beta by their scent with a snarl, knocking him back and away from his prey.  She pivoted to face the other beta and growled at him.  The beta shifted partly and growled back.  Laura met his eyes and snarled louder, sending him back and away.

“Who do you think you are, bitch?”  The second beta demanded.

“Alpha Laura Hale of Staten Island,” Laura replied coldly.  “You’ll forgive me for interfering but I was told that Manhattan was a place where wolves were never harassed.”

“She’s just an Omega,” the beta said, “who cares?”

Laura looked at the girl, taking in her dark hair, skin, and eyes.  Then she noted the way the girl curled up, protecting a slightly protruding belly.  A faint sniff and she knew what the girl protected.  “That is a pregnant woman, you asshat son of a bitch,” Laura yelled.  “You have no right to touch her.”  Laura felt the girl touch her ankle for a moment, then grip it tighter with a firm grip, “You violate the rules, Betas.  Run to your Alphas and pray you never meet me again.  I know your face and I know your stench.  If I ever see you attempting to harm any woman again, save in a case of war or _self defense,_ I will shred you and leave you to your Alphas’ mercy.”  She let loose then, not the snarl from before, but a stronger one, with all the weight and authority of a Hale Alpha, the legacy she had earned from her mother.

“Remember,” she called after the fleeing Betas, “Alpha Laura Hale from Staten Island.  I look forward to hearing from your Alphas.”

Laura turned to the girl, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know,” the girl said, “my stomach.”

Laura felt her heart skip a bit as she knelt down, “Here,” she took the girls hand in her own and pulled off some of the pain.

“Here now, what’s this?”

Laura turned to find to police officers coming up.  One was a were, but the other was not.  “She was mugged,” Laura said, “I ran them off, but she’s hurt.”

The younger officer, the human, nodded, “What did they look like?”

“Between six foot and six two, built like a pair of brick walls,” Laura said, “both wore black t-shirts and blue jeans, and steel toed boots.”

“And you ran them off,” the human said.

Laura smiled at him, “My dad was a cop, sir.  He was very big on learning how to defend myself, and when I proved to have a habit of tackling bullies to protect my little brother, he taught me how to do that as well.”

The human nodded, “Did you notice hair and eye colors?”

“Brunette, one had brown eyes and a road rash from me hitting him,” Laura replied, “the other had hetrochromia, brown and blue.”

“I’ll go see what I can find,” the human said.

“Please,” the girl gasped.

Laura turned, “Are you okay?”  She asked again.

“Something,” the girl gasped and curled around her stomach, “something’s wrong, my baby…”

“An ambulance is coming,” the werewolf said, “how far along are you?”

“Seven,” the girl said and her eyes flashed.  “Alpha.”

“Easy,” Laura said, kneeling to take the girl’s hand.  “I’m Laura, okay.”  She turned to the other cop, “Any help she needs, I’ll pay for.”

“You’re,” the werewolf said.

“Laura Hale,” Laura replied, “my brother and I just moved to Staten Island.  Yes, I’m an Alpha.  I’m also a decent person who thinks that kicking anyone, much less a pregnant woman is reprehensible.”

The werewolf nodded as his radio crackled.  Laura didn’t understand, but the werewolf sighed, “It may take a bit,” he said, “we’re kind of off the beaten path.”

“I’m not leaving her,” Laura said.

“I need to take your full statement then.”

Laura began to talk, alternating between pulling pain from the girl and answering the werewolf cop, John Porter’s questions.  Laura even admitted to giving the betas her name to report to their Alphas.

“That’s a lot of concern for an Omega,” John said cautiously.

Laura snorted, “Well, she doesn’t have to be.”  Laura looked at the girl, “You don’t have to be an Omega.  Not if you don’t want to be.”

The girl smiled, “I’m Petra,” she panted before groaning around her belly.

“We’ll discuss everything later,” Laura decided as she heard the sounds of people approaching.  “For now, though, consider yourself a beta.”

Derek met Laura outside the small, private hospital that catered to werewolves.  “Are you all right?”  He demanded as he barreled into her.

“Yes,” Laura said, hugging him back.  “I may have expanded the pack.”

“You may have?”  Derek asked, leaning back to look at her for a long moment.

“That’s up to Petra,” Laura replied, “but at the least, we’re going to have a few houseguests.  Come and meet them.”  She led Derek up to Petra’s private room on the maternity ward.  The young woman, also eighteen, was gently holding her twins.  “Petra, this is my brother Derek, my beta.  Derek, this is Petra and her daughters, Melody and Hope.”


End file.
